And Another Thing.....
by GeorgysGirl
Summary: Spike has a rant
1. Default Chapter

And Another Thing.....  
Wildecate@hotmail.com  
I own nothing, nothing at all.  
R - for language  
Spike rants to himself quietly.  
  
  
There isn't much to it. Being a demon I mean. Perhaps I should say ex-demon cos I don't count anymore. Big Bad is now Big Sad. What's the point in snarling when even the little witch knows you can't follow through? Can't even go out looking for a fight anymore with coming down with a stonking migraine. Which leaves me here as usual. Stuck in this crypt watching the sun shadow crawl down the wall until it completely disappears meaning I can head out.   
  
This place is a mess. There's fag ends and empty bottles all over the place and I know that it disgusts them when they deign to come over here. It used to irritate me but I don't care any more. I've gotten used to the way Buffy wrinkles up that little nose of hers at the smell of this place. Have you heard the age old joke? Did you know that vampires had moved in next to the pig farm? What about the smell? The pigs don't mind. Not funny.  
  
Did I mention I was bored? I am. Very. I used to kill for pleasure once. I used to kill to watch my baby scream with delight. And then for a while I killed to punish everyone for the way I was feeling when she fucked off to wherever the hell she went. And now I don't kill at all. I kill demons but it isn't the same. There's no real loss of life there. I might as well wear baggy trousers and call myself Xander if it goes on like this.  
  
This is ridiculous - you might call this soul searching except I'm not currently cursed with a soul - or blessed, depending on how you look at it. I mean, let's face it - having a soul automatically puts you with the good guys despite the craving for blood. On this point I would just like to add that I am quite happy living without that blessing. It would make my unlife a lot easier if the whatever they call themselves, Scooby Gang, trusted me cos lets face it, it's not like I can do anything to harm them and seem to spend a fair amount of time saving their arses. On the other hand, if having soul means ending up like my old mate Angel I think I'll pass.   
  
Another twenty minutes or so until sunset and then she'll come through that door, mouth full of sarcasm and blow me away. She cam make me feel an inch tall but you know the stupid thing, I'm counting the minutes until she does that. One day I think that I'll grab her before she opens that pretty mouth of hers and kiss her so hard she won't know what has hit her. Admittedly the joy of that would be severely shortened by the fact that that is the thing that is absolutely guaranteed to get me staked.  
  
What a way to go.  
  
Did I mention that I haven't had a decent shag in months? I'm not including that dappy tart Harmony. There was some prostitute somewhere up north and before then, a long time before then there was Drusilla. And I was always faithful to her. Loyalty isn't something that comes naturally to us but to me I couldn't even look at anyone else while she was around. She filled my world right up to the point when Angelus returned. And yes, like the Slayer I do differentiate between them because there is a difference. It's more noticeable to me because I spent years with Angelus. To be faced with Angel after knowing the cruelty of Angelus was quite a shock and we knew who to blame. The girl who I'm currently counting the minutes for. Fortunately for my reputation no one knows this.  
  
I've been sitting watching the sun slide down the wall for the last three and half hours. I haven't had a drink today, yet although I'm sure once she's flounced out of here in her tight little trousers and silly little boots, I'll need one. I've run out of cigarettes which means that I'll have to head out tonight to buy some more. I know she doesn't approve but I don't reckon she's got to grips with the idea that lung cancer isn't a problem for me anymore.  
  
And another thing........  
  
"Hey Slayer"  
  
  



	2. While She Was There

Wildecate@hotmail.com  
Rating: R- for language  
Disclaimer: Not mine, not nothing, not no how  
Summary: Follow up to "And Another Thing"  
Author's Note: In response to some lovely reviews here is the continuation of "And   
Another Thing.." I wasn't really intending this to become a serial thing but hope you like it anyway.  
  
  
"Hey Slayer"  
  
Oh God there she is, all big mouth and no brain. She comes across as a quick mouthed, sharp tongued, smart arse. Hmmmm, arse. She marches in and gives me the normal routine - what a failure I am, why can't I pull myself together, what is that dreadful smell? She turns her nose up and tries not to breath in too deeply and I just want to grab her and kiss her. As I said before - sure way to die. So I just sit there while she rips me to bits and once she's finished I ask  
  
"Finished?"  
  
She gives me a killer glare and wanders round the crypt looking disgusted, kicking whiskey bottles out the way with her boots. I've seen them before and often wondered why she wears them when she's out slaying. They are little leather ankle boots, dark red, spike heel. She can't possibly run in them for God's sake. And then it hits me. She's going out tonight.   
  
"I'm patrolling late tonight" she echoes my thoughts.  
"Finally got a date Slayer? Not some big softy like Angel or twat Riley?"   
  
I'm jealous but I don't think she knows it. This is something I can't resist and she gives me another megawatt glare. That's her weak spot. Her taste in men, or perhaps I should say lack of taste. What can I say - Angel, tosspot and I don't think I really even need to mention twat Riley. She hates being reminded about her ex's because one way or another they've all come to a bad end. Except for that bloke she shagged in her first year at college - can't remember his name but I do remember he walked all over her. I think I might have laughed about it at the time but now I'd rip his head off.....if I could.   
  
She puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head, regarding me. I hate it when she does this. I know what she sees despite the fact I haven't seen myself for the last hundred years or so. Blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin, leather trousers, black T-shirt, fag hanging out of mouth and reeking of whiskey. Mmmmmm attractive. Or not. She's considering me and deliberately I blow smoke her in direction which makes her cough. But it also makes her stop looking at me.   
  
"Finally found yourself a nice guy Slayer? Someone who won't kill your friends, try and sacrifice you, love and leave you and lie to you?" I hate it when my mouth takes over my brain. I'm hurting her with every word I say and I can't help myself.  
  
"Why are you being such a moron?" she asks.   
  
That's the best she can do as far as name calling goes. Swearing is a bit below her and I don't think I've ever heard her swear although I've deserved it a couple of times. She'll say "shit" occasionally and if things are getting on top of her you might hear her say "fuck" under her breath but never anything out loud. It's one of my pleasures, swearing. They all hate it and I can tell they look down on me because of it but I have to say at this point, it's definitely a demon thing. I was not the kind of guy to swear before I changed and I'm definitely not the same guy now.  
  
I shrug. "I'm a bloke - what can I say?"  
  
God, she's sexy when she's angry. I love winding her up like this. One day she'll probably get so mad she'll stake me which will be a relief I think. Do you have any idea what it's like living like this? Not being able to have the thing I want the most. You think I'm going to say Buffy, don't you? You're wrong. The blood lust overcomes all of that and fills my head and blocks her out.  
  
She snarls at me, expecting me to meet her later for patrol and then she's gone.  
  
What a woman.  
  
And I'm left here. Again. Knowing that she's going out with some tosser who definitely doesn't deserve it. Well bugger that for a game of soldiers. Let's have some fun.  



	3. And Another Thing 3

Wildecate@hotmail.com  
Rating: R- for language  
Disclaimer: Not mine, not nothing, not no how  
Summary: Follow up to "And Another Thing"  
Author's Note: Part 3 of Spike ranting.   
  
She's good but one of the things she never bothered to do was develop her Slayer senses properly. Hannah, a Slayer who came close to dusting my arse could tell when I was 100 yards away. Buffy can't do that. But when you can kick arse the way she can I suppose there's no need. Which is just as well because at the moment I'm doing something else guarateed to get my arse dusted. She's about 200 yards ahead of me, swinging those hips down Sunnydale's main street. I reckon she's heading to the Bronze, the only place to party in this crappy little town. Don't ask me why I stay in this crappy little town if it's so crappy. The answer is walking into the Bronze.  
  
It's crowded in here tonight, the reek of human blood is almost too much to bear and as a rule I don't torture myself like this. I'm not Angel. I get a drink, Jack Daniels straight up, and mooch into a corner. She might not be able to sense me but I can sense her, feel her. She's perched on a high chair, sipping coke because she's a good girl and she never drinks. How dull. She's talking to the witch, Willow's looking good tonight, wearing a top that I know she didn't choose, with her hair cut short and make up. Who has she made an effort for? My curiousity diverts my train of thought and is almost enough to make me forget the stench of blood.   
  
I know it isn't Xander, at least it better not be. Red should know better by now that there's nothing there but trouble. The new clothes suit her, tight fitting top showing a pretty damn good figure and there's definitely something different about her.   
  
Who's this? Tall slender blonde, pretty pouty lips and whoa - would you look at that? I'm guessing little Red is batting for a different team now. I recognise her now, Tara. How did I miss that?   
  
It's not just Willow's eyes that have lit up, Slayer's come over all nervous, it's coming off her in waves, I can smell it. She's all het up and I still can't see about who. She's looking over at some guy and gives him one of her shy smiles. Those shy "shag me" smiles that she never gives me. He takes her by the hand and leads her on to the dance floor. I can only take so much of this.   
  
  
I've given up. I can't watch her dancing with this Sap anymore. My third JD is finished and I decide that I better make like a good little Spike and kill some vampires. I wander off down the street when I feel that strange ripple down the back of my neck. That means she's around. Strange, I thought she'd be dancing all night. That's what "late patrol" means. It means after The Bronze has closed, she'll swing by my place and then we kick some vampire ass, as she says. I duck into an alleyway and to my surprise she's walking past, with him. He's walking her back to her Mum's. A rather nasty idea occurs to me and taking a short cut and moving at full vampire speed means I can be there at least five minutes before she turns up with Sappy.  
  
I'm sitting on the steps to her house when they turn up and I wish I could take a photograph of her face.   
"Buffy, honey I was worried" I say and watch the expressions flit over her face, horror, bemusement and anger all fight for precedence but when the boy looks at her, she plasters a smile over her face.  
"Why?" she says through gritted teeth - not at all pleased with this, not sure where it's going but prepared to play along. She doesn't want this boy involved in her little "hobby" and wants to be normal.  
"You said you'd be home at 11pm. As your older brother I feel it's my duty to worry about you. Any longer and I would have come looking." I turn my gaze on Sap and give him a dreadful smile "You must be...."  
"Josh" he answers in a small voice "I'll see you round Buffy".   
  
With me standing over them, he doesn't dare give her the full on goodnight kiss he had obviously planned but pecks her on the cheek. With a nervous smile at me, he disappears off down the street leaving me with a very pissed off Slayer.  
  
She turns and makes sure he is out of sight before giving me the kind of punch that makes me see stars. I don't bother to fight back. I can do without a migraine considering how much I'm going to ache tomorrow from this. She's kicking three kinds of hell out of me on her front porch and I'm suddenly laughing. Infuriated she stops and glares at me.  
  
Bloody hell but she's beautiful, even from my position on the ground. She stands over me, hands on hips, breathing hard although I'm not sure why - beating me up doesn't take any kind of energy, especially when I can't fight back.  
  
"Finished?" I ask as I roll on to my side on the grass. She gives me a final kick in my stomach that makes me roll up with pain. God I love this woman!  
"I hate you" she says "Why do you do this to me?"   
"Someone has to torture you, pet. And everyone needs a hobby."  
  
The slam of the front door tells me that she's flounced off inside her house and I'm alone on the front lawn. I've been here before through and I sit up carefully, avoiding my left hand which she seems to have broken. Out of habit, although you'd think after a century I would have gotten out of the habit, I take a deep breath and start counting quietly.  
  
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 ...."  
  
The front door opens behind me and then closes. I stand up and brush myself off and then turn round. She's taken off the silly boots and has her sensible trainers on. She's put her hair up and has her bag over her shoulder. That's a bonus. She usually takes at least 30 seconds.  
  
Patrol time it is then. 


End file.
